New Witness
by wishyfishy
Summary: Mary has a new witness, but before she even gets to talk to him, a man calling himself John Smith wants to speak to him first. But Mary isn't giving up her new witness that easy. Oneshot.


Disclaimer: I don't own anything…as if you didn't already guess that…

Author's note: This is supposed to take place in the Doctor Who timeline, between 'Doomsday' and 'Smith and Jones.'

Mark Abbot was seemingly normal person. Late 20's. Single. Lived in Boston. Born in Boston. Parents married late. Had him late. And were married until they died in a retirement home in their sleep. Only child. Worked as a telemarketer for insurance company. Normal.

It was on June 5th, 2007 that he witnessed a murder of a coworker when he had returned to the workplace to retrieve his forgotten mug. The killer was the head mob boss of the area, come to personally knock off someone who was trying to blackmail him. Mark Abbot saw the whole thing. And a few days later he ended up in Albuquerque, New Mexico, waiting in a conference room with the southern sun falling on his normal brown hair, pale skin, and brown eyes. He was waiting to find out who he was going to be for the rest of his life. He was also waiting for me, Mary Shannon. Mark Abbot was my new witness.

I was walking into work, feeling the cool air conditioned air on my face (got to love whoever invented the A/C), and was about to walk into the conference room to talk to my new witness, when Stan stopped me.

"Mary, I've got something to tell you," stated my boss firmly.

"That's nice, Stan but I've got a witness to talk to," I retorted, continuing on with my walk over to the conference room.

"No, Mary-"

But Stan was cut off by the appearance of a bizarre man from his office, who so happened to stop right in front of me, halting my progress towards my witness. He was a skinny dude with hair that seemed to have a pound of product in it (there is no way anyone's hair could get that spiky and messy on its own). His body was adored with a tight fitting brown pinstriped suit and a tattered trench coat, with cream converse on his feet. I immediately decided that he was either blind or fashionably challenged for no person in their right mind would wear that combination of clothing. He looked out of place in the government office, but there was an air around him that said he should be here. I still questioned him.

"Who the hell are you?" I asked, for as bizarre as he was, he was still standing between me and my witness. There was also the fact that part of me wanted to know why someone so obviously _strange_ would even be allowed in here.

"He's John Smith, from UNIT," answered Stan walking up beside me.

"UNIT? John Smith? Okay, I must be missing something because those two things don't make any sense. What is UNIT? And seriously? John Smith? If that isn't a made up name I don't know what is," I replied.

There was something fishy about this 'Smith.' From the way he was dressed and to whom Stan introduced him as, both of those added to the feeling that something was not right. Why was he here?

"Oh, you must be Mary Shannon. I've heard a lot about you," said 'John Smith,' holding out his hand for me to shake with a wacky grin on his face.

"I'm sure you have, but if you don't mind telling me who exactly you are and why the hell are you here. If not I've got business to attend to," I responded, not taking his hand.

It was safe to say I was skeptical of this man. From his voice, I could tell he was British, meaning that he was foreign. Now I'm not an expert on foreign government agencies, but I knew that UNIT was not one of them. I haven't heard of UNIT before. Something I didn't know about was going on here. And that something was keeping me from my witness, and I was not happy.

"Wait…Did you say UNIT?" suddenly questioned Marshall, standing up and walking over to us.

Marshall was already in the office when I had walked in. He was at his desk, doing whatever he was doing before all of this started happening.

"Yep, that's what I said," replied 'Mr. Smith,' turning towards Marshall.

"Unified Intelligence Task Force? There have been some odd rumors about UNIT," commented my partner, being his normal nerdy self.

"_Well_…can't really say much about that…but…_well_, you know rumors…," replied 'Mr. Smith.'

"Well if that isn't a load of crap if I haven't heard one," I muttered under my breath, but I was pretty sure everyone heard it.

I had no idea what 'rumors' Marshall was talking about, but I couldn't help myself from commenting on the situation. This 'Smith' was obviously using the old, deny-and-lie trick that every crap-ass politician uses one time or another in their career. I may doubt the fact that UNIT is a real government agency, but 'Mr. Smith' was sure acting like he was from one.

"Yeah…_true_. Anyway, I bet you're wondering why I'm here," he stated bluntly, the quirky smile still on his face.

Finally, down to the good stuff, I thought.

"He's here because he has some questions for you witness," clarified Stan.

"Questions, eh?" I began. So that's what he was here for, I thought. "What sort of questions. And who gave you the jurisdiction to ask said questions?"

"_Well_…Really it's UNIT. International ties and stuff…UNIT kind of has jurisdiction everywhere, that's why I used their name…hard to explain. But it all checks out. Don't worry," answered 'Mr. Smith,' scratching his head with his smile still painted on his face.

"Don't give me that crap. I want to know what UNIT wants with my witness," I stated. He was using the deny-and-lie trick again, and I couldn't stand it. My new witness was involved and I wanted to know exactly what was going on and what this bizarre British dude wanted with him.

"Mary, please. It all checks out, I promise you. Now can you just let him talk to the witness, and get it over with?" begged Stan.

Typical Stan. He wanted it all to be over and done with. He didn't like hassle. But I was not going to let this weirdo go waltzing up to my witness without know exactly what was going on. "No, I want to know the truth behind all this."

"Fine…I can tell that you're not going to budge until I tell you. So that truth is that your witness…he's a…a person of interest," said 'Mr. Smith.'

"What do you mean?" I questioned.

"Well…he's someone I want to talk to before he goes into witness protection. Just to make everything clear."

"Okay, still not making sense here. Could you please talk English?"

This time he was not using the deny-and-lie. He was just simply dodging my questions completely. Going around them. Not making any sense at all. What was he hiding? What did he really want with my witness?

"Wait…are you saying that our witness is an alien?" suddenly asked Marshall.

"What?" exclaimed both Stan and I as we turned towards him.

Did Marshall just say what I thought he said? was the cliché running through my head.

"Did you have a little too much coffee today or did you just wake up with your brain missing?" I queried after a few seconds when my mind finally took in what my partner had just said.

"No, it's just that there are rumors that UNIT works with aliens. That that seems to fit with what Mr. Smith is saying," replied Marshall in a calm and urgent voice.

"But how can that be possible? Aliens aren't real," I stated. Marshall was not making any sense here. 'Course there was those weird things that happened in London, but those weren't aliens. It couldn't be.

"We don't know that for sure. There are billions upon billions of planets in the universe. There's bound to be some of them with sentient life on them," argued Marshall.

"Marshal? Seriously? I can't believe what I'm hearing. Where's the fact-loving bone head that I know and love?" I continued. Something obviously wrong with my partner. He maybe a nerdy sci-fi geek every once in awhile, but I never took him to be one of those freaks that believed in aliens. What was going on here?

"Guys!" exclaimed Stan before Marshall could say anything else insane.

"What?" both my partner and I said turning towards our boss.

"Looks like Mr. Smith is already in talking to the witness," said Stan pointing to the conference room that through a gap in the closed blinds we could see 'Mr. Smith' sitting next to the witness with his feet up.

Damn it! I cursed myself for being so stupid as to be so caught up in Marshall's alien crap to forget about 'Mr. Smith' and my witness. I immediately went over to the door and tried to open it. Somehow it was locked. _Great_.

"Stan, where are the keys to this thing?" I asked turning back to my boss.

"Uh…I don't know…I think they might be inside there," Stan stammered.

"Check would yah?" I ordered. And with that Stan went back searching for the keys. Ruffling through papers, checking in desks, ect. I sighed. How was it possible that that British weirdo could've locked the door? I didn't even know the conference room could be locked until now.

"God, I can't believe he got in. Did you see him walk in?" I asked, turning to my partner, momentarily forgetting that he thought my witness was an alien.

"Nope," replied Marshall.

I sighed again, and turned back to the room. I tried to look though the gap in the blinds to see what 'Mr. Smith' was doing to my witness, but he had his back to me and I couldn't see through his thin frame to see what exactly was going on. It didn't help that I they were speaking so softly that I couldn't hear what they were saying. _Great_. This was not turning out to be a good morning.

"I can't find them," said Stan coming back, after a few more moments of fruitless searching.

I sighed once more and started to bang on the door of the conference room.

"Okay, 'Mr. Smith.' Party's over. Get out of here before I'll grab you by you're pretty little shirt collar and throw your scrawny ass out myself," I threatened at full volume so he could hear.

There was no answer, so I banged even louder, endangering the safety of the glass. My new witness was in there with a strange stranger, and I had no clue what he was doing to him. I had to get into that room. I didn't trust that bizarre 'Mr. Smith.'

"Mary, please," Marshall begged to calm me down.

"I don't think I should be listening to you right now, because you've clearly gone raving mad or you're some stranger wearing a Marshall mask," I retorted, thinking back to Marshall's statement that my witness was an alien.

"Mary, listen to me. The rumors about UNIT are that they are an international task force that deals with aliens and alien invasions. Remember all those Christmas attacks in London? And the 'ghosts'?" argued Marshall.

That made me pause for a moment. I remembered all of what Marshall was talking about. But it wasn't aliens. I just couldn't be. Aliens aren't real. They're like Big Foot or the monsters under your bed. They were silly little stories meant to freak people out. All that stuff in London was because people were obviously more frightened by ghost stories then the rest of the world. They thought all that was because of aliens, when it all had different reasonable explanations. It wasn't aliens. But right now I had bigger things to worry about than the possibility of little green men from space.

"Marshall you're not making any sense here. And frankly I don't care right now, because my current witness is locked in a room with an unknown and possibly mentally unstable person, doing who knows what to him," I snapped, my mind and worries going back to my witness. I turned back to the door and yelled some more threats. "Alright now 'Mr. Smith' if you even mess one hair on my witness's head, I swear I'll everything in my power to make sure that you never set foot in American again, you hear me, tea boy? Now open this damn door!"

And with that, the door opened and 'Mr. Smith' walked out, smiling his quirky smile. "Sorry about that. Everything's alright, though. But I don't think he'll be going into witness protection," he said.

"What do you mean?" I demanded, still pissed off that he was talking to my witness without me knowing exactly what was going on.

"Well…to tell you the truth: he's going home," the Brit replied.

"He can't go home. The mob will kill him before he even steps foot in that rank apartment of his," I retorted.

"Well…that's not really his home is it?"

"God, could you possibly be more cryptic?"

This guy was really getting on my nerves. He won't give me any straight answers. He had waltzed into the conference room without my full knowledge or consent. He was acting like he owns the place. And that smile of his wasn't helping.

"You mean he's going back to his home planet?" asked Marshall.

I rolled my eyes, but didn't say anything. I didn't want to deal with Marshall right now, and the fact that he's obviously not in his right mind. All of my thoughts were now focused on this bizarre man in front of me. Who in response to Marshall's question only winked and continued to smile. God, this guy was getting weirder and weirder by the second.

"_Well_…I best be going…," stated 'Mr. Smith,' motioning to leave.

"Oh no, I got questions for you. Like first of all, what did you do to my witness?" I demanded, grapping hold of his trench coat sleeve.

"Nothing. I just talked to him that's all. Don't worry, I didn't touch a hair on his head. Even if I did, UNIT would sort it out…after all I used their name…do that when I need help with bureaucracy sometimes…Anyway, you shouldn't waste anymore or your time on him. He'll be gone before tomorrow. I made sure of that. Now, please I have…uh…other things to sort out…Nice meeting you Mary Shannon. Keep up the brilliant work," he answered.

And before I knew what was going on, he slipped out of my grasp, ran towards the elevator and got inside. I was about to go after him when Stan grabbed my arm.

"Mary, don't. It's not worth it," stated my boss.

I watched the 'Mr. Smith' with his smile and weird ass outfit as the elevator doors closed and he disappeared. I wanted to go after him, demand some answers, but as I felt the grip of my boss's hand, I decided to let the weird Brit go. He was right, it was not worth it. But it still didn't stop me from ranting.

"What does that guy think he is? Who is he?" I huffed, pulling out of Stan's grasp. I had let him go, but I swore to myself if I ever saw 'Mr. Smith' again, I was going to beat his scrawny little ass until he gave me some real answers.

"_Only themselves understand themselves and the like of themselves, as souls only understand souls,_" spouted Marshall like he was Confucius or something.

"Okay…what?" was all I could say in response.

"Walt Whitman," he replied with a straight face.

I looked at my partner questioningly. After a few seconds, I sighed, part of me relieved that Marshall was back to his normal nerdy self. I then turned back to the conference room, whose door was hanging open like it fancied me to come in. And I did, wanting to find out if my witness was alright.

"Okay, what did that man say to you?" I asked, coming up to Mark Abbot as he stared out of the window, face blank.

"Doesn't matter. I don't have to answer you. I have to go home," he replied with a monotone.

"Wait…oh no, whatever that British loon said to you, forget it. He's obviously a mad man. Don't listen to what he said," I responded. There was no way that I was losing a witness because of that foreign crazy.

"I have to go home," stated Mark.

I could see that he was not going to listen to the 'that man was crazy' tactic, so I tried another. "What about the trial? Some _very_ bad people will go free without your testimony."

"I don't care about who you humans deem as 'bad people.' I have to go home."

Did he just say _humans_? He was acting like he wasn't…human. No...that's not possible. Aliens aren't real. But part of my brain started to doubt that fact because of Mark's words. …_humans_…any normal person would just say _people_ instead. What was going on here? Did that 'Mr. Smith' do something to my witness?

"I have to go home. Doctor said," repeated Mark.

Suddenly he lifted his arm, pulled back his sleeve and revealed his watch. It was a fairly normal looking watch. Small, old, sliver with a brown leather strap. Nothing unusual. Mark then reached up to his watch and pressed a small button on the side, creating a buzzing noise.

Next thing I knew, my witness was gone in a blink of an eye. I stared at where he once was seated, my logical brain not knowing what to think. That was when Marshall walked up beside me. He had obviously seen the whole thing.

"Told you he was an alien."


End file.
